


The Scarlet Wash of Day and Night

by theinconceivabletruth



Category: Log Horizon
Genre: Blood, Character Study, Gen, I didn't know about D.D.D. Diaries until I wrote this, and appreciation of blood, it's totally gen except that Krusty really really likes blood, various unnamed D.D.D. members
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 22:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8771857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinconceivabletruth/pseuds/theinconceivabletruth
Summary: Strongly inspired by Krusty cackling madly over bloody corpses in the anime. This particular build is called a "Scarlet Knight" for a reason. Krusty just wholeheartedly embraces it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fandom 100% does not get enough love, and I'm in obsession mode.   
> Edit: the other fic I was writing when Krusty dragged me away to write this is now finished and posted. 
> 
> Many thanks to LordByron, who is my beta reader and deals with me hurling cascades of texts at him with ideas in all-caps. 
> 
> I'm using the Log Horizon Wikia's spelling of names here- Krusty, Theldesia, etc.

Kounoike Haruaki woke to the twittering of birdsong and warm sunshine on his face. He took a luxurious few moments to revel in the laziness of the day. _A few more moments before coming back under the scrutiny of Father’s minions…_ he mused. But there was no face associated with the thought.

The precise cadence of the birds outside registered then in his mind. The soft rhythm of dazzle doves, occasionally punctuated by challenges between males. _Theldesia._  The thought was relaxing; Krusty felt a tension he hadn’t noticed drain from his body.

_Odd. I actually don’t hate just the thought of getting up today. Again._

He hadn’t felt like that in years. There had always been a disconnect. But even just a few days of life in Theldesia was soothing in a way nothing else had been so far in his life. Besides punching someone’s face in.

Krusty decided that lying in bed for a few more moments without the crushing _need_ to be was an excellent use of his time.

*******

It didn’t matter that the fantasy game had become real life. Actually, that was awesome. It didn’t matter what might be happening at home. What _mattered_ was that right now, D.D.D. was moving out to scout for their first high-level raid since they’d woken up in this new world a week ago. Krusty could feel any remaining tension drain from his shoulders as a tide of excitement rose to take its place. Neither emotion showed on his face.

The scouting raid party was small, but Krusty had made the decision to only take level 90 players. This was a test run, and Krusty was anticipating tough opposition.

As the party fought its way through the lower levels of the chosen dungeon, Krusty felt himself falling into habits and sensations that were both familiar and foreign all at once. The refreshing straightforwardness of a fight, seeing the shifting patterns of combat that would lead him to victory, snapping out orders to a smooth-flowing team of excellent fighters – all these Krusty was familiar with, and reveled in. What was not familiar was the sense of _knowing_ without looking where he was between his team and the enemy, and the sure knowledge of the Guardian: _Here I stand, and you shall not move me_.

Other skirmishes had, all too briefly, introduced Krusty to the new sounds and smells and feel of battle. It appeared there was no rating filter in the new Theldesia, and many members of his guild were extremely grossed out. Krusty had sensed something inside him perk up in interest instead.

 _I never realized blood could be such a rich scarlet._ When the warm blood touched his skin, the only way Krusty could describe it was an awakening thirst. He _needed_ , and it was a need that only grew as they made their way into the tougher sections of the dungeon. What was familiar was placed on automatic processing, and Krusty threw more of his focus into experiencing the new sensations.

By the time the party reached a wide, open chamber packed with mobs, there was only one decision Krusty was capable of making. He barked out a last few orders and let slip the Berserker’s Rage. And the he could speak no more.

 _It’s so much better when you can feel the weak resistance of their bodies parting beneath the force of your blade._ A wild, fierce strength suffused his limbs, and bones broke with satisfying crunches under the haft of his axe. _I don’t care what they are anymore. All that matters is the blood… I wonder how far I can make it spray?_

He could feel his mouth stretching into a crazed grin, but that freedom felt good too. An arterial spray caught him across the face. Krusty licked his lips involuntarily. _Oh._ His eyelids slid shut as the salty, metallic flavor seeped across his taste buds.  _Like running your tongue down the edge of a blade. But warm. And so much more satisfying._

Krusty redoubled his efforts, joy and rage both singing in his veins. _I didn’t know I was craving it so much._

Blood pooling out from the crumpled bodies of his prey. Blood beneath his fingernails. Blood drying on his skin. Blood on his lips and tongue, and dripping down his blade. _It feels so good._

_This is absolutely better than sex._

***

Afterwards, Krusty was told that he had gotten so lost in the Blood Rage that all attempts to call him back were ignored. He was told it was as if he were blind, deaf, and dumb to anything but the foes before him. He was told that the Rage had carried him far beyond the timeout of any class skill, until the rest of the party had called a retreat, and Krusty still had not come. He was told he had fought like a demon, activating <<Lunatic Armor>> over and over until his health had hit zero. And then <<Rage Again>> kept him fighting for another ten seconds beyond that.

Krusty could only remember a whirl of blood-red adrenaline and a fierce pleasure he’d never experienced before. He didn’t remember using <<Rage Again>>, only the compulsion to keep fighting, because the enemy was still moving, so there could still be more blood. Then, darkness, and an odd, peaceful shoreline that was jarring after the blood high. And then, of course, he was in a Cathedral.

***

Krusty wasn’t all that surprised by the wary glances he received from the members of the raid party when they reorganized. He also knew instinctively that something needed to be done about it. Yet he couldn’t pass it off as just a one-time occurrence; Krusty already knew that it wouldn’t be. Anytime he was exposed to a succession of enemies, he would hear that scarlet siren call. _Now how to reassure them that I’m not actually a psychopath and still preserve the ability to feel_ that _again?_

Krusty strode towards the group. Misa, his second in command, greeted him. Krusty allowed a very slight smile back. “Hello. Did everyone make it back all right? I didn’t see anyone else at the Cathedral. Were there any other deaths?” _Calm. Cool. Straight to the point. Show them you’re still in control of yourself._

“Yuta died earlier in the fight – it was his death that predicated the decision to retreat. But we couldn’t call you back. You wouldn’t come. Although you did thoroughly distract the enemy as you ran your health bar into the ground.”

Krusty nearly winced at the rebuke in Misa’s words, caught himself, and then consciously completed the action. He added a slightly sheepish hand behind his head, hesitated for exactly one heartbeat, and then commented, “I guess we know what happens when you mix the flavor text for a Scarlet Knight with a Berserker.”

Comprehension flashed across several faces, and most of the wary expressions melted into worry.

“Ah. I hadn’t thought what adding larger quantities of blood on top of a Scarlet Knight’s specialty and a Berserker’s blind rage would do.” Misa blinked. “My apologies. We’ll have to reassess the rest of the classes for any similar surprises.” Her expression turned stern.

“Good.” Misa’s eyes bore into Krusty’s expectantly. He sighed. _Ah, she knows me so well._ “I suppose we’d better schedule a few practice sessions to see what can break someone out of the Rage.”

There. The other high level players seemed ready to brush off the incident now that a plan had been waved in their faces. They seemed perfectly ready to accept it as an effect of class, similar to those they had seen of races. Krusty wasn’t about to abuse them of that notion. They were even correct.

Just not entirely. Because while even he had been surprised, there had been some part of Krusty that had whispered _finally_. He doubted that would go away anytime soon.

As the days wore on, Krusty slowly worked the Blood Rage into his “battle” persona, until all he got was slight awe from other Adventurers, and acceptance from his guild.

No one ever saw through it but Lenessia.

Birds of a feather, after all.  

**Author's Note:**

> Krusty's choice to build his character as a Guardian Scarlet Knight, with subclass Berserker, is extremely telling, IMO.  
> I may add additional chapters in the future exploring Krusty's particular method of administration to his guild; it's rather fascinating, just from the snippets we get canonically. It's also way too fun to slip into his headspace.  
> I'm also feeling fairly motivated to go translate D.D.D. Diaries from Japanese, which is apparently the fanfic that gave us most other D.D.D. members, all of whole appear in the anime as described in said fanfic. Rieze is most prominent among them.  
> NO, I'm not procrastinating my psychology paper at all...  
> Criticism is welcomed and appreciated!


End file.
